


Not As Intended

by stripedshirt



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1920s, Denial of Feelings, Diary/Journal, Implied Sexual Content, Journalism, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Self-Discovery, Somewhere Around the 1900s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-04 15:55:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripedshirt/pseuds/stripedshirt
Summary: Francis Morris, a 23 year old man travels out to England for school. The aspiring writer is urged to journal his events while away at college. The man's plans are simple, as he writes,"I plan to study and meet a woman there who, some day, may become my wife. I hope to stay in England for as long as I possibly can, settling down with a family and a steady job."But as life goes, it can never be that easy. While in England, Francis must find a way to keep his head with new obstacles, ones he never thought of running in to.





	1. To Cambridge

June 4th, 1916  
  
Today is the day I begin my journey to college. I figured that I would start journaling the events while in England as a way of self reflection and possibly a landmark in the Morris ancestry. Ma said so. While the days passed and even now on the ship, I still stand a happy man that The University of Cambridge has accepted me as a student. Can you imagine the commotion at home that letter created? A few days ago I started preparing my trip, probably on the 1st and on the 3rd Ma threw a farewell party, invited family and friends over. Ma cooked my favorites, veal, asparagus and sweet potatoes, something that Kathryn almost refused to eat. We talked and drank until it was 9:00PM. I'm proud of myself that I got to bed on time, especially to get up so early. I still remember those fond goodbyes, hugs and kisses from family and friends alike, I swear I can still feel them, I'll be sure to write back to them when I can. Rose assured me God will be keeping me safe on my journey.  
  
While I write this, I sit on the ship, it's quite late already. Everything is Jake even with my past fear of navigating the oceans. To me, ships never looked sturdy or buoyant, but being on one for the first time changes my perspective. I admit to feeling very comfortable, the ship gives me a sensation that I felt when I was a child. The crew leads the way while keeping me content, leaving me with thoughts of life in England. I plan to study and meet a woman there who, some day, may become my wife. I hope to stay in England for as long as I possibly can, settling down with a family and a steady job.   
  
\- Francis Morris


	2. Just Beyond Reach

June 6th, 1916   
  
    I'm now on the last day of sailing and boy do I have butterflies in my stomach. Yesterday, I got talk to a couple traveling to Paris, France. The woman, named Yvette, and I had a glorious time talking. Me and her husband talked a bit as well, about traveling advice. Both were dolled up so nice I swear I saw the man powder his nose. I really do envy them, holding each other arm and arm, kissing each other and giggling at each person who does so little as walk by. Watching them just makes me wish more and more so I had something like that. But while thinking this, I felt a little odd about it. I try not to occupy my mind too much with things like that, I have a terrible history of going to much in depth of things.   
  
    I've slept well, before every night's rest I'd read Burning Daylight by Jack London. Sadly, I can't keep myself to finish it. I suppose I should of asked friends if it was truly good before I went ahead and bought the book all together. I do keep a bit of poetry with me so I don't bore quickly. Writing these journals alone strengthens my life as a new writer.   
  
    Earlier today me and Yvette’s husband, Michael, talked extensively about the world's news and word that floated around frequently. Our discussion of the new Ford Assembly Line went the farthest, he never did seem to be a grouser but boy did he go on about losing his job. He frightened me just a bit with his tone. Then again he has every right to be angry. Michael brought up the sinking of the Titanic, the event just 4 years ago and that did shake me up again. But as Rose reminded me, God watches me while I live my life and will protect me as much as he can.   
  
\- Francis Morris


	3. Settling In

June 10th, 1916   
  
I live in an apartment near Belmore ct. In Ardbury with a roommate called Howard Verd. Me and him split the rent while work is slow. On the 5th Howard met me for breakfast when I first arrived, the next day we traveled up to Ardbury to the apartment. I enjoyed the sights and people, traveling feels like a new start. So many shops and restaurants and other such places. I took notice to the smells as well as the sensations I got while watching from the window of the machine. Howard found me amusing saying, "You're much different than how you are in those letters." I remembered, ah, the letters. Although it took some time to speak in letter form I always enjoyed getting these responses, they felt like presents awaiting to be unwrapped.

 

The apartment is a bit less than what I imagined, I'm not saying I expected a lollapalooza of an apartment but I didn't expect its size. I blame myself for making a bit of a boner of not asking, at all, about the place we were planning on staying at. In the machine, Howard told me about his travels back and forth to England. I told him about how I have been as of late, mentioning more about life in Ohio. Howard listened to me like a father would to a child while driving to school and the lulling movement of the car bumping up and down on the road made me tire quickly. Howard told me we'd have lunch with an Edmund Grey, apparently a good friend of both Howard and Lloyd Neiswender, he reassured me eating would keep me going through the day by energizing me. I remember the sun shone on my closed eyes and flickered like a warm candle.

 

The apartment itself was larger on the inside definitely, a few bedrooms and baths equipped it like badges of honor. Howard helped me with my bags and into the apartment, which for some strange reason, smelled like a light cologne my father used to spray his collar with before church. 

 

On the couch was Edmund Grey, laying back and smoking a ciggy in a dreamy expression. Standing by the mantle was Lloyd Neiswender with a drink, he smiled at me with my arrival, walking up to me with a large, friendly hand outstretched. 

 

“How are you, your Francis right? Nice to meet you, kidda’. As Howard probably told ya I’m Lloyd, Lloyd Neiswender.” He addressed me in a bubbly voice, shaking my hand with a jovial energy. I said my name and smiled to him briefly, going over to Edmund when he called for me. “Francis Morris? So your the man Howard speaks about so positively. I'm Edmund Grey, in case Verd didn't tell you, pleasure to meet you.” Grey slipped his thin, silky and cold pale hand into mine, giving it one firm shake before taking the hand back. He had limp wrists that made his hands bob over them. Edmund made me uncomfortable. He was a feminine man.

Lloyd cooked lunch of matzo ball soup and toast, a recipe he loved to cook for others as he said. It defiantly woke me up as I felt better throughout a long day of unpacking into my room, a small but proud room next to Howards. Edmund and Lloyd sleep out on the couch, as Howard informed me before bed they plan to stay for a while. Tomorrow we plan to just stay at home.

-Francis Morris


End file.
